


Do what you do.

by Black14embers



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Into the West is a sad song, Please read, dont let me write fanfiction while listening to sad songs, im sad now, it's sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9669506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black14embers/pseuds/Black14embers
Summary: He was crossing the road as anyone would, on a cold winters day. Hands shoved into pockets, trying to retain warmth and his head bowed to the ground. His boots crunched against the snow loudly, blocking out the howling of the wind and everything else.Enjolras didn't see the car coming towards him, and he didn't hear it either.A flash of green, a crooked smile and nothing.





	

_“Lay down_  
_Your sweet and weary head_  
_Night is falling_  
_You’ve come to journey's end_  
_Sleep now_  
_And dream of the ones who came before_  
_They are calling_  
_From across the distant shore.”_

White sheets sat neatly tucked, underneath white hands and across white bandages, seeped with red. Blond curls strayed across a white forehead, and onto white pillows.  
Blue eyes closed against white eyelids; long eyelashes brushed against pale cheeks.

Colorless lips made no movement, no sound but the whistle of a machine forcing air into weakened lungs. A once steady and noble chest, rose forcefully and painfully.

Wires and tubes fell about bloody bandages, jutting out and falling about in a mess of drips and beeps.

“Dear God,” Combeferre choked brokenly, leaning heavily on the wall as he stared at what remained of his beloved friend.

“I am so, very sorry Monsieur,” the Doctor said meaningfully placing a hand in the man’s shuddering shoulder.

Combeferre shook of the woman’s grip and stumbled over to the bedside, falling into the chair with a thud.

“Take as long as you need,” she said solemnly leaving the room.

Combeferre shook his head, tears falling rivulets down his cheeks and onto the bed. He took the pale hand in his own and gripped it tightly; running the other hand over the blonde locks.

“I'm here mon ami, I will not leave,” Combeferre prodding quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to a soft cheek.

:-:

Enjolras watched from his perch on the bed, as Combeferre struggled to keep himself together; unable to console his friend in any way.

“You foolish, foolish man!” Combeferre cried gripping his hand tightly.

Enjolras liked to think he could feel the warmth from his friend’s grip, but it was void of anything. As he had been since the car had torn at his very being.

“I'm sorry,” Enjolras apologised, patting Combeferre’s shoulder, knowing the man wouldn't feel it.

-:-

Joly sucked in a shaky breath as he finally plucked up the courage to see his friend, it had been 3 hours since the accident. He'd been the first one to see the broken body in the ER, and hadn't stopped pacing ever since.

“Joly?” Combeferre asked blearily looking up from his vigil beside Enjolras.

“Ferre,” Joly muttered weakly, critical eyes glazing over the remnants of his friend.

“You know exactly what's going to happen, don't you?” Combeferre muttered staring directly at Joly, eyes of cobalt blue meeting eyes of moss green.

“You do too,” Joly echoed his voice threatening to crack.

“He won't be alone?” Combeferre cried his stoic mask slipping at his friend's nearing fate.

“He is never alone.”

-:-

Enjolras watched nurses and doctors filtering out of his room at a dizzying pace, each looking grimmer than the next.

“Don't give up on me!” Enjolras pleaded watching Combeferre and Joly grow even more crestfallen. “Not yet!”

-:-

“How?” Courfeyrac screamed turning on the towering form of his friend, “how could this happen!”

“He was walking home,” Combeferre stammered wringing his hands in his lap. “The guy driving was intoxicated beyond belief, he rammed straight into Enjolras, at 38 mph as he crossed the road.”

“Why was he walking home so late, Ferre? I would've picked him up, he didn't need to walk!” Courfeyrac cried burrowing his head into Combeferre’s chest, crying loudly; gripping Enjolras’ hand with his free one.

Enjolras neither saw, nor heard the tears his two closest friends shed, lost in a void of dark nothingness. Courfeyrac maintained the innocent belief of his friend’s survival, while Combeferre held the truth, the rate of survival was dropping by the hour.

“You'll come back to us,” Courfeyrac assured his brown eyes welling up with yet, more tears, “you'll come back and I'll slap you over the head for worrying us.”

Combeferre could barely hold in the cry that threatened to escape at Courfeyrac’s words.

:-:

“I will always come back,” Enjolras promised tightening his hands into fists, in obvious frustration.

Courfeyrac couldn't hear him, no one would.

:-:

 _“Why do you weep?_  
What are these tears upon your face?  
Soon you will see  
All of your fears will pass away  
Safe in my arms  
You're only sleeping.”

“He looks like he's taking a damned nap!” Bossuet weeped borrowing his head in his hands, as he exited the room and fell into a waiting room chair. “Like he'll wake up any minute.”

“I know, I know,” Joly whispered putting an arm around Bossuet’s shoulder and pulling him, to his chest.

“Why him? He's the best there is, why take him?” Bossuet mumbled, asking anyone and no one at the same time.

“We're not sure if he won't make it, yet.” Joly said trying to give what little comfort he had.

“You wouldn't have said goodbye if he was,” Bossuet growled flying out of the chair, and back into the room.

-:-

Bahorel walked beside Feuilly, a sense of foreboding hanging over them like a thundercloud, promising dark times ahead. He walked beside the Redhead like one would walk to death, stiff and departed from reality.

“He'll make it through this,” Feuilly reassured as they stopped in front of the right room.

Bahorel swallowed thickly and nodded, his friend’s words a bare comfort. He stepped in first, shakily opening the door and tears welling up as he looked on his friend’s prone form.

“Oh Enj,” Feuilly softly sighed as they walked over to the bed.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac were nowhere to be found, probably getting food to give them space to… to what? Say good bye?

Bahorel grimaced at the machine that forced air into the fragile body, and struggled to ignore the tubes that invaded Enjolras’ hands as Bahorel gripped one, tightly.

“You could've just called,” Feuilly muttered softly from his stance at Bahorel’s shoulder. “Any of us would've come Enj, you knew that, you know that mon ami.”

“Stubbornness will be the death of you, I swear,” Bahorel joked weakly, sorely hoping he was wrong.

-:-

“It'd be stubbornness,” Enjolras agreed, running a hand through the matted curls on his head.

Enjolras had been stubborn since birth, it wasn't far off to believe that it would kill him.

-:-

“Oh mon petit,” Jehan mumbled gently cupping a pale cheek, and brushing a thumb over closed eyelids.

The sun was barely starting to rise, but the beginning rays could be seen over the skyline, filtering gently into the room and across the white bedspread. It was truly a sorry sight.

“I am sorry it must end like this, on such a cold morning,” Jehan whispered taking Combeferre’s and Courferyac’s sleeping minds into consideration. “I won't say goodbye, I know where you are headed, and I will be there someday to. It isn't goodbye, not ever. Goodbye means leaving you alone; you my friend shall never be alone.”

Jehan continued to stroke the lax face, watching with hooded eyes as the sun rose and spoke of new dreams and achievements. All the while he muttered sweet nothings into unhearing ears, and unseeing eyes. He spoke of dragons flying through cold mountains, and heroes rising from humble beginnings. Ladies of star and moon, with unknowing realms of knowledge. He mumbled on about ships sailing on a clear, blue sea, the sun curling around tired bones and warming weary minds.

“Don't be afraid my friend, we are here, and will remain till the end.” Jehan promised in a cracked voice looking at the sterile, grey wall.

“Am I interrupting?” Cosette whispered, interrupting Jehan’s gentle ministrations.

“No, no,” Jehan mumbled with a crooked smile, “I was just going to get some air.”

Colette nodded unbelievingly and watched as Jehan gently patted the sleeping face, before stumbling out the door.

“You've got yourself into quite a pickle,” Cosette mused clicking her tongue as she noticed the two men hunched over in the corner, dead to the world.

She gathered two blankets from an open cupboard, and deftly covered the two, before turning her attention to the one who needed it most.

“You've driven Marius to hysterics, he can't even see straight for the tears.” Cosette said brushing a stray curl away from the man's head. “He's outside, you can hear him right?”

Cosette remained silent staring over at the city skyline, listening to the bustle of the city and roar of the trains going past. She tried in vain to block out her husband’s sobs and the whistle of the ventilator, keeping Enjolras alive.

“This isn't fair,” Cosette finally mumbled, brushing a hand over her blue dress as she sat down in the one remaining plastic chair.

Nothing else was said, not when Marius finally came in and pulled himself together, and definitely not when Courfeyrac sprinted straight out of the room after bolting up from a dream.

“Age quod agis.” Cosette muttered, repeating the Latin proverb that Enjolras had first  
said to her. “Age quod agis.”*

-:-

“Ah, do what you do,” Enjolras mused to himself, watching as Marius and Cosette retreated from the room.

“Don't I always?”

-:-

 _“Hope fades_  
Into the world of night  
Through shadows falling  
Out of memory and time  
Don't say  
We have come now to the end  
White shores are calling  
You and I will meet again  
And you'll be here in my arms  
Just sleeping.”

Grantaire walked into the room, as soon as Eponine and Co. had left, leaving just him and his _Apollo_.

And there he was, lying like an angel on a bed of pure white; just sleeping.

“Don't leave us,” Grantaire begged, struggling to look at anything, but the figure in the bed. “Not now. Please, don't go where I can't follow.”

Grantaire whimpered as his green eyes, met the pale face and closed eyes, the bandages and bruises.

“I'd never abandon you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The Latin proverb basically means, do what you do - (the thing that Cosette said.)
> 
> Hoped y'all liked it. 
> 
>  
> 
> I leave the ending up to interpretation.
> 
> You do you, mate.
> 
> Song is into the west by Annie Lennox and it's beautiful, listen to it.


End file.
